


Morning Dreams Do (Not) Come True

by atomicdetectivehideout



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Married Couple, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27111286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicdetectivehideout/pseuds/atomicdetectivehideout
Summary: She'd worked late at the casino last night, the always fun 8 pm to 4 am shift (great for tips, terrible for your personal life), got home at 5 and dragged herself to bed leaving a trail of clothing behind her starting at the front door. She last remembered feeling Sweeney roll over to fling a weighty arm around her small waist, his warmth lulling her to sleep.So why, after falling asleep at 5, was she being awoken by a piercing alarm at, she fumbles for her phone on her nightstand, at 6:30 on a Saturday morning?
Relationships: Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	Morning Dreams Do (Not) Come True

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first American Gods/Mad Wife fic and my first fic in a few years! My husband finally finished reading the book so I picked it up again before we marathoned the show. Watching Mad Sweeney and Laura interact, in season two especially, reminded me of my husband and I but about a thousand times angrier, lol. So it was only a matter of time before inspiration struck, I suppose.
> 
> This is unbetad, I proofread it multiple times, and ran it through two spellcheck programs, but I'm sure I didn't catch everything. Just let me know if I've missed something and I can change it.

_ “There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.” _

―  Homer, The Odyssey

BEEP BEEP BEEP

"WHY THE FUCK--?" Laura exclaims furiously and groggily, bolting upright and slapping her husband's stretching body.

As she feels her body and mind regaining wakefulness, she remembers: She'd worked late at the casino last night, the always fun 8 pm to 4 am shift (great for tips, terrible for your personal life), got home at 5 and dragged herself to bed leaving a trail of clothing behind her starting at the front door. She last remembered feeling Sweeney roll over to fling a weighty arm around her small waist, his warmth lulling her to sleep.

So why, after falling asleep at 5, was she being awoken by a piercing alarm at, she fumbles for her phone on her nightstand, at 6:30 on a Saturday morning?

"Hang on," her annoying husband says while he takes his sweet time turning off his alarm. She pulls a pillow over her face in frustration earning herself a mouthful of her long brown hair for her effort when he turns the lights on. The fabric is rough against her sleep soft skin and needing to spit out her hair only infuriates her more.

Oh, yes, she recalls. Sweeney is working this weekend.

_ "You've literally never worked a Saturday before," she had griped at him when he'd told her one night the week before after they'd finished dinner and were about to start a movie.  _

_ "Yer the one that wanted to go on a proper holiday with planes and beaches and room service," Sweeney reminded her, eyebrows raised and challenge ready. "I was fine driving to somewhere with sun and ocean, but you wanted something "luxe and expensive"--" _

_ Laura scoffed. "I've never used the word luxe before in my life--" _

_ "So when the boss asked if I wanted some overtime, who was I to say no? Certainly not a man that wanted to be trapped in a car being reminded that Daytona Beach isn't the same as Hawaii for a billion hours." _

_ Laura threw her hands up in exasperation and stood up from the couch to pace. "We've gone on the same fucking trip since we started dating. It doesn't matter where we drive: all of the United States looks the same. Aren't you bored of road trips yet? How many times do you want to see the same shit? Or will seeing the world's largest ball of fucking twine really change you this time? Or will the abandoned barns in Ohio look different from the ones in Maine?" she asked him with a sneer. _

_ Sweeney smirked and she already wanted to slap it off his stupid, smug face. "The ball of twine is in Kansas, love. It wouldn't make sense to visit it if we're going to Daytona again." _

_ "Fine. Work your Saturday. Don't ask me if we had plans or whatever." And she stormed out of the living room to draw herself a bath instead. Fuck movie night. And by the way, she never said she wanted a luxe vacation.  _

_ She said  _ opulent _.  _

"But why did you need to set your alarm?" she complains from under her pillow. "Why isn't your body used to waking up early on its own yet?"

"What's that Dead Wife? Yer mumbling into yer pillow." Laura had never been a morning person in her life, as Sweeney had found out very soon once they started dating. He called her Dead Girl after catching her drinking a cup of cream and sugar sans the coffee, wearing only pants even though she had picked out a shirt that lay forgotten on her bed, and her lit cigarette in the fridge all in the same morning and it had stuck only to change after they wed two years ago.

"Go fuck yourself." She lifts the corner of the pillow to investigate. "Turn the light off, for fucks sake," Laura growls, pulling it back down.

"I have to get dressed, woman," Sweeney reminds her while he riffles through his dresser.

"You already look like you get dressed in the dark, no one would be able to tell the difference anyway," she tells him. 

"You buy most of my clothes, so that's more of an insult to you," Sweeney chuckles, pulling on a plain black t-shirt. Damnit, he's right.

"Oh fuck it, just come back to bed." She snakes her arm from under the bedding and finds the top of the duvet on his side and flings it down for him, patting the empty space. "It's still warm," she adds. 

Sweeney laughs at her again while she hears him pulling on his jeans, belt still in the loops from yesterday and jingling all too merrily. "That ain't gonna work. You always complain I'm too hot as it is. I keep telling you it's just the Irish sexy yer feeling."

Laura rolls her eyes even though they're still hidden under her pillow. "No, you're the same temperature as the sun and you sweat buckets every night. I can't touch you when you're passed out. It leaves my hands wet. You're disgusting."

"Aye, there's that charm," Sweeney says and Laura hates that she can hear the grin in his tone. It's way too early for anyone to be so fucking chipper. But still, she changes gears.

She pulls the pillow from her face at last and blinks bleary in the light and tries to appear sexy in her tiredness. "Well, we don't have to go back to sleep," she purrs but feels dead inside thinking about not sleeping. "Let's just spend all day in bed together. We'll have our own vacation right here, right now."

Sweeney doesn't say anything but after a moment she feels a dip at the bottom of the mattress and hands find her feet under the blankets. They run up the lengths of her legs, feeling as much of her skin as they can. When she looks down, she can see the blanket tenting taller and taller as her husband bunches up under it while he licks and kisses up her legs following the trails his hands have made. This definitely wasn't how she thought she'd be spending her time at 6:30 in the morning, but she is starting to come around to the idea. 

She can feel his breath against her hip and she gasps at the feel of his beard that is so rough against her inner thigh. Sweeney's hands reach for the waistband of her underwear and she clumsily lifts her hips to help him remove them. His mouth is back quickly and she can feel his hot breath damp against her skin, hotter from being under the blanket. He's usually the sort to dive right in, his desperation to taste her is all it takes to get her riled up too, especially when he growls and tosses her to the bed, but he's taking his time this morning. That needs to be changed.

"Dear god, just eat me out already!" she demands. Sweeney tsks in response but finally obeys, burying his face in her folds. He needs a strong hand at times and it's not one she's afraid to yield. Speaking of, she raises both hands and tangles her fingers in the longer strands of his red hair keeping him firmly in place as his tongue circles her entrance, dipping in slightly and groaning with the taste he receives. 

Maybe it's just the exhaustion speaking, but when he grazes over her clit finally, all of her nerve endings remember how to function in a flash and she's come around to performing for fun and not as a begrudging act to get over with so she can go back to sleep with her husband beside her. Laura's so ready for fun. Her body relaxes into the mattress and Sweeney must feel her reaction because his grip on her hips tighten and he runs his tongue against her clit finally giving her pressure she wants and--

He pulls away taking the entire blanket with him.

"What the fuck now?" she groans loudly in frustration, her body suddenly freezing without the protection from the duvet.

Sweeney dumps the blanket on the ground out of her reach and grabs a long-sleeved shirt to finish dressing. "Well, I best be off. Gotta get to work to make money so I can take the Dead Wife on the vacation she wants because that'll be less complaining than another road trip. Ya wanna get off this morning, you best get to flicking," he finishes with a laugh and a crude gesture. She hates how good of a mood he's in this morning. "You'll be thanking me when yer in a cabana sipping a pina colada or whatever it is you have in mind."

"Pina coladas are disgusting," she tells him petulantly while crossing her arms. 

"You love 'em." 

"Fuck off. I hope you smell me on your beard all day and remember what you left at home."

"You think I'm disgusting, but I do wash up every now and then, you know?" Walking to her side, Sweeney crouches over Laura and she's tempted to pull the pillow back over her face. Or slap him. She hasn't decided yet but with sex off the table, she can feel the sleepiness creeping back into her bones.

"Go back to sleep, love. I'll be back before ya know it because you'll be asleep for most of it," he still can't help but tease.

"Whatever," she grumbles in response, rolling over to face him better. "I didn't forget that you're working today, by the way. I got you something easy for breakfast this morning." She can't miss the way his eyes light up. Of the five love languages, receiving gifts is Sweeney's number one, no matter how small they might be. "It's in the cupboard above the fridge," she adds.

"Thanks, love," he leans in to kiss her, a lingering one on her lips and one on her forehead before standing back up. "Go back to sleep," he tells her again and returns the duvet to her finally.

"I will," she promises. He leaves, getting the light and shutting the bedroom door behind him and she curls back up getting cozy under the covers. It's not the same sleeping without her giant, sweaty husband at her side, but she can feel sleep pulling at her. 

She just needs a minute longer...

Quiet cursing can be heard from their kitchen when he bellows, "Lucky Charms?! That's not fucking funny, Dead Wife!" She laughs softly before drifting back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! I don't generally write smut so I don't have a lot of practice with that and listening to My Dad Wrote a Porno is making me nervous about that too but I wanted to share this! =) 
> 
> If I do wind up writing more Mad Wife, I can already tell you it'll be more AUs in our regular world because that's just what I love.


End file.
